Engagement Pudding

Those of you kind enough to read my most recent postwill know that Denmark is a country apparently bereft of pigs. Well, it’s quite short on people too.

I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t concentrate that hard when I was doing ‘gothic literature’ for my A-Level English…but I concentrated enough to know that “isolation” was pretty important. It explains why so many eerie films and books are set in Scandinavia. There’s barely anyone there. The Killing, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The Bridge…Hamlet. Terrifying.

I know, I know, I live in London. My views are skewed. But even when I visit my parents in the small South Leicestershire village of Smeeton Westerby, I see more people than I saw on the 70 mile drive from Rørvig to Copenhagen.

Please, dear reader, don’t get me wrong – I loved it. I’m just sharing my astonishment.
The cottage where Tom and I were staying was wonderfully remote. In a village, down a squiggly path, then down a forest track. Beautiful remoteness. We arrived, and flicked on the hot water, we brought in some wood and fired up the stove, we found a couple of bikes in the shed and cycled off to the beach. Bliss.

“Imagine if we were sitting in the cottage tonight, and a face suddenly appeared at the window” I chuckled, as I navigated a sandy, forested path – “Here’s Johnny…” images whizzing through my mind. And on we cycled.

Danish beaches are beautiful. Neither of us are good at sun bathing, but we’re good at yomping. So the bracing breeze and long stretch of white sand was perfect. We didn’t even feel guilty for being too restless (or too susceptible to sunburn) to stretch out and soak up the rays. Instead, we marched up the beach far as we could go. And then turned round and then marched all the way back again.

We went got back to the cottage. Night fell, I made a gin and tonic. And then quite a remarkable thing happened. Tom suddenly shot upstairs, shot back down again, fell on one knee and proposed. Then another extraordinary thing happened. There was a tap…tap…tap on the glass, and an uplit-face appeared at the window…

…shaking a little, (out of possible fear/shock/excitement), I cowered behind Tom as he opened the door…to reveal an elderly neighbour stood on the doorstep. “Come in, come in” we said, “we’re just about to open a bottle.” Being far too British to explain why we were about to open a bottle. “No, no” he said, hovering on the doorstep, and embarking on an abridged history of the past twenty five years in Rørvig.

After what was, realistically, five minutes (but in my shaken-up state felt like fifteen) the kind neighbour left. We phoned our parents, and then phoned Tom’s grandparents. And then ‘The Granny Network’ shot into action. Tom’s Granny phoned her friend who owned the cottage in which we were staying, who then phoned the next door neighbour…

…the following evening I was sipping a gin and tonic, and then there was a ‘tap..tap…tap’. We pulled the curtain aside, and there was the now-familiar sight of the up-lit neighbour. “I heard your good news…” he grinned, brandishing a trifle bowl. “So my wife made you a celebratory pudding”. Thus cemented a life-long love for Denmark and all (few, though there may be) Danes – in particular the wonderful neighbours.

The Original Engagement Pudding

The following day, our friend’s wife explained that the red jelly and blue violet petals were strategically placed against the white whipped cream backdrop to symbolise the red, white and blue of the Union Jack. It really was the kindest gesture. And the most delicious pudding. I asked for the recipe, but was only given a verbal explanation…and fear that quite a lot got lost in translation.

Spoonful of the original engagement pudding

The pudding was a layer of poached apples, and dark breadcrumbs. The dark breadcrumbs were – I think – coated with melted butter and sugar and then cooked. Brown sugar, I imagine. I tried to recreate it tonight, but only realised (once I returned from Tescos) that I was out of brown sugar, so I tried a butter and black treacle combination instead.

I had hoped that I’d be able to exactly replicate The Engagement Pudding, and post a recipe. But it’s really hard to replicate something so special, and do it justice. And I fear I failed. So instead I shall write my attempt below, and ask of you – dear readers – to let me know if you have any suggestions how I might be able to recreate the original. Or if you happen to have ever stumbled across a traditional Danish recipe for a poached apple-dark breadcrumb trifle….

1. Boil a saucepan of water, stir in the sugar, and then poach the apples for 5 minutes. 2. Tear up the bread into small pieces (though not as fine as traditional breadcrumbs). 3. Heat the butter and treacle in a pan. Add the bread and stir until coated. 4. Put the treacle-breadcrumbs in an oven at 180C for 8-10 minutes. Allow to cool, and then break into smaller crumb-like pieces. 5. Layer apple, and then breadcrumbs, and then apple, and then breadcrumbs. And then top with a single layer of whipped cream.

The funny thing is that when I asked the neighbour what it was called, she kept saying ‘Aeblekage’ but I thought she was saying ‘Apple Cake’ – just describing it as a generic apple cake. Now I’ve looked up Aeblekage though, it solves the mystery!
It makes sense using eating apples, as the cooking apples I used were far squishier than in her version – where they held their shape far better. I’m still interested that the dark breadcrumbs were made using white sugar. Will have to keep experimenting…thanks so much for the lead though!

Netty’s Mum says: briefly heat breadcrumbs in a dry frypan until they are light golden, then add to melted butter and fry a little till they are deep golden, then stir in the sugar and continue to fry until the sugar grains have “melted” and the mixture is “nuggety”. remove from heat and keep “agitating” it with a wooden spoon (to keep the “nuggets” separate). Wait till both apples and crumbs are cool before assembling. The dark colour is from the apple juice seeping into the crumb mixture. Quotation marks denote the nearest English word Netty could find for her Mum’s Danish instructions.

Hi Rachel
I’ve never commented on s blog before. So I hope this works!
Just reading about your engagement pudding and it reminds me very much of a pudding my Mum used to make a lot and I have followed suit. ..Peasant Girl With a Veil. …have you heard of it? You fry breadcrumbs, demarara sugar and butter in a frying pan over a low heat until golden and crunchy. Stir in a pinch of cinnamon. Layer up with stewed apples. (Tjhe peasant girl I assume). Spread a layer of whipped over the top and cover with grated chocolate (the veil)! It’s yummy!

Thanks so much for this Deb. I’d never heard of a Peasant Girl with a Veil….it sounds very romantic! I had a quick look online, and have found a Women’s Hour episode on it (!) so it must be true. It appears that I really did screw up my breadcrumbs with dubious treacle/butter combination….back to the drawing board! Xhttp://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/womanshour/2006_07_mon_04.shtml

Meet Rachel

Hello, I'm Rachel Walker, an editor and food writer across national publications. If you’re interested in reading my cuttings, then click here →This blog is a little online space which I set up in 2011, to record some of my favourite recipes and experiments – from smoking salmon in a dustbin, to bringing lambs' tongues. Read more about my culinary adventures by clicking here →